


Honeymoon

by vexmybones



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Future Fic, Hinted Blusey, Hinted Pynch, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Pillow & Blanket Forts, Songfic, damaged things, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexmybones/pseuds/vexmybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue and Ronan living together, no buffers, no bullshit, this is how they cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honeymoon

 

_‘We both know that it’s not fashionable to love me._

_But you don’t go, ‘cause truly there’s nobody for you but me.’_

A car alarm sings through the night jolting Blue from sleep. Inhaling sharply she rolls onto her back, right arm flinging out to the other side of the bed. The sheets are cold and empty there. Staring up at the shadows that the streetlight cuts into the ceiling, she sighs as the vapors of her dream evaporate before she can grasp them. Someone on the street yells, the alarm stops, all goes quiet. She knows there isn’t any use checking her phone, or the clock for that matter. Not tonight.

Rolling back onto her side, Blue tugs the blanket up to her ear despite the mugginess that hangs heavy in the air. The last days of summer have been stormy and remind her far too much of the place she left behind. Those southern nights when rain made smoke rise from the blacktop and the boys shed their precious uniforms. But those days were long gone and here there were only noisy neighbors and sirens. She would admit that the buildings all jammed together, the noise, the crowds; it all smothers her sometimes. But there were other things that she would never admit to.

Blue had new rules now and she stuck to them.

She had promised.

The pressure in her chest is sharp and familiar yet she grits her teeth at the sting behind her eyes. You’d think after three years it would be easier, easier to breathe, to move on. You would be wrong, though. Curling further in on herself she curses in a strangled whisper when the first tear of many escapes. The persistent memories threaten to overwhelm her and she gulps down shaky breaths. She wishes that it _was_ easier; she almost wishes that she could just forget. God, how she wishes that she could have saved them.

“ _Promise me, Blue.”_

_She shook her head frantically, her arms aching as the rain beat brutally against her back, the wind howling and making her yell to be heard. “NO! You can do it yourself! Don’t do this, please!”_

_His face was set into stone, the determination in his eyes scaring her more than the surrounding chaos._

_“I have to.” He didn’t have to raise his voice like her, being in Cabeswater made him otherworldly now._

_She remembers when she just wanted to know that magic existed. Now she wished it didn’t._

_Arms like steel bands strap around her and the weight that she strains to hold up out of the mud. Blue’s head snaps around and stares at the deadly sharpness of Ronan’s profile. His gaze doesn’t leave Adam as he speaks._

_“Do what he says,” his voice isn’t raised either but it sends terror skipping down her spine._

_Prying her eyes from him she looks back to Adam. Instead of the anger or hurt she’d expected, she only finds something she can’t name, or doesn’t want to, in his gaze. Swallowing down a sob of sheer frustration and anguish she lowers her head, Gansey’s soaked, limp body swimming in her blurry vision. When she agrees to what he wants of her it’s with a whisper._

A sob wracks her small frame as Blue apologizes to the darkness of the room, again and again. She knows she hasn’t kept that promise and it almost hurts as much as her grief. She also knows that it wasn’t just her that lost something that night. But how can she keep her promise to Adam if Ronan refuses to let her?

Blue falls asleep cold and empty; just like her sheets.

 

*

 

Waking the next morning with a headache when her alarm goes off at eight, Blue stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom. She avoids the mirror over the sink and strips quickly to take a scalding shower. The heat works to ease her head and warm up her chilled bones if only for a moment. She never can get warm anymore, truth be told.

Once out of the shower she only takes a few minutes to try and cover up the dark circles under her eyes, mostly failing. After adding a touch of mascara she calls it a failure and towels her hair a little before sticking it up into a ponytail. It’s grown out over the past three years and she just doesn’t have the motivation to change it.

Tugging on a pair of jeans over a pair of bright, happy yellow panties, she slips into the matching bra letting the hideous color bring a small smile to her lips. It’s the small things, really. Sticking her minty toothbrush into her mouth she flings the door open to go find a shirt suitable for work only to have her steps falter. Ronan’s feet pause at the end of the hall, his features unreadable when he meets her eyes. Without a word he moves towards her, brushing past as he steps into the room across the hall. Blue turns back to the bathroom to rinse her mouth after brushing her teeth for probably longer than necessary.

Taking a deep breath she leaves the safety of the bathroom and crosses to her bedroom. Ignoring the body sprawled diagonally across the messy bed, that of course she didn’t take the time to make, Blue moves to the closet. Huffing when she stubs her toe on a stray boot she kicks it aside along with a pair of cargo pants and a black wife-beater that’s still warm. She is definitely gonna have to do laundry when she gets back later.

“You’re late,” says a muffled voice followed by a groan and popping bones.

“No shit,” she replies and grabs a clean t-shirt that has the coffee shop’s logo emblazoned across the back.

“Have a wild night, maggot?”

“Sure,” her voice sounds through purple fabric as she pulls it on before turning around. “I had a wild party with the twins and Mrs. Glory.”

When she doesn’t get a response immediately she finally allows herself to look at him. He gives her a thumbs up and she rolls her eyes then crosses over to the dresser. She digs through the top drawer till she finds a matching pair of socks under all of the underwear and she honestly doesn’t remember when they just stopped caring whose drawer was whose. Snatching her boots from where she kicked them off the day before, Blue purposefully plops gracelessly onto the mattress.

“Fuck, stop moving.”

“Stop drinking,” she retaliates and bends to put her socks on.

He just laughs bitterly at her. Blue ignores the way the sound makes her gut twinge. He used to laugh loud and like he could take on the world. She used to laugh, too. They don’t do those things anymore. They don’t do a lot of things anymore.

When she gets her boots laced up Blue glances at him. Ronan’s starfished face down atop the covers, his tattoo looking decidedly defensive in the morning light that strains through the blinds. There are newer ones that cling to the curves of his right bicep and tangle like roots down his forearm. Some days she swears the needle on the compass that’s nestled within the roots moves as if changing directions with his moods. It’s pointing south this morning and she can relate. His face is buried into her pillow, the ink looking stark against the white pillowcase where he clutches it.

“Chinese and car chases tonight?” she asks tentatively.

His shoulders rise with an inhale and he turns his face just enough to peer at her with one cracked eye. She waits patiently. He nods slowly after his assessment of her and she mirrors his nod and makes to stand. Like the snake Calla used to call him, his arm strikes out before she can move and slides about her waist, effortlessly plucking her from the edge of the bed. Rolling onto his side Ronan tucks Blue into the grotto of his bare chest and the bed.

The sheets are warm now.

Blue bites the meat of her cheek to keep her traitorous emotions in check as his strong arms wrap tightly around her leaving no room for escape. As if she’d want to run. She’s supposed to, but she doesn’t seem to remember what ever made her want to run in the first place. His chin rests atop her head, the still damp strands of her ponytail curled around the juncture of his shoulder and neck like greedy fingers clinging to a lover’s skin. She squeezes her eyes shut. He won’t apologize for disappearing on the anniversary of that doomed night and leaving her to drown in her own grief, and frankly she doesn’t blame him. She won’t apologize either, at least to him.

They don’t speak because there aren’t any words that can be said to make it all better. Words only make it worse. They learned that the hard way the first year. Blue has a scar on her right hand, a slice right down her middle knuckle from where she’d gotten so angry she’d punched her full length mirror. Their first argument had ended with shattered mirror glass, seven stitches in her hand, and Ronan’s first real grin since they’d lost the others.

She wears that scar like a badge of pride.

Blue feels his frame relax minutely and hers follows suit. It isn’t much, they’re never fully relaxed these days, but it’s enough. She feels him shift his head and a slight pressure against her temple before his arms go slack and release her. Blue would be a liar if she said she didn’t want to stay right where she was but she pushes up anyway. She’s going to be late for work.

“I’m supposed to get off early tonight but you know how that goes,” she moves to unplug her phone and grab her house keys as she talks. “So I’ll be here whenever.”

“Excuses, excuses. You just want me to be the one to get the food.”

“Well it would be nice. You’re a terrible housewife, Ronan Lynch.”

He flips her off and burrows back into the pillows. Blue sighs and shoves her cell into her jeans’ pocket and pokes the sole of his foot that’s hanging off the bed with her pointiest key on her way out the door. Ronan’s shouted and creative curse puts a small smile on her face.

 

*

_‘We both know the history of violence that surrounds you._

_But I'm not scared, there's nothing to lose now that I've found you.’_

 

_A month later…_

 

The shop is filled to bursting with loud New Yorkers and tourists alike. They all annoy Blue no matter where they’re from. Her mother taught her not to discriminate. Ronan taught her to hate everyone equally. She figures it’s all the same, right? She bites her lip when she gets rudely shoved into the counter and hot coffee sloshes over her hand. Gloves, those ugly, elbow length yellow ones she used to use to clean the disgusting bathrooms at Nino’s, she’s gonna get a pair. Shaking off the splatter, Blue edges back around the counter and gets back to her shift.

By the time six o’clock rolls around her feet are throbbing in her boots, her hands are a little sore, and she’s starving. She can hear her red couch calling her name and she wonders if she can con Lynch into driving across town for those tacos she’s getting addicted to. Blue swallows a groan as the bell above the door dings again and a gaggle of frat guys push into the shop. Putting on her best fake smile, she straightens and steps to the register to take their orders, calling them back to the other barista. She’s counting back change when that damned bell dings again. This time she ignores it letting Susan get it.

Ten minutes later when the frat guys all have their caffeine fix and are huddled in front of the big window beside the door, Blue turns back to the machines to straighten up. She ignores the weird feeling twining itself around her spine and is humming to the horrible hipster music (that she does not like) when Susan sidles up next to her. Blue glances at the petite blonde with a brow raised in question.

“There’s a gorgeous guy at the back table ignoring Tammy and staring at you,” she whispers in a conspiratorial tone. “And I don’t think her cleavage even broke his concentration.”

Blue snorts at that because the guy must be batting for the other team if he doesn’t fall for their Jessica Rabbit lookalike coworker. Swiping the counter for something to do, Blue shrugs. She doesn’t care who stares at her, she isn’t interested.

“You should take him a complimentary coffee and get his number!” Susan’s voice rises above a whisper and Blue kinda wants to stomp on her foot.

“Not interested, seriously? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” Blue gives her a big bogus smile.

“But you haven’t even checked him out!”

“Nope,” she pops the P and walks away to straighten the muffins.

Susan follows her and tugs on her apron string making Blue pause out of politeness, but she still won’t turn around to see the guy. She gets numbers all the time and they end up in the trash every time. She has no desire to meet anyone. Before Susan can say whatever she opened her mouth to say, the bell rings and Blue thinks ‘saved by the bell’ until she sees just who’s stepping into the shop.

“Blue!”

Matthew pushes past a scowling Declan and moves right up to the counter with a sweet grin that still somehow appears innocent despite the fact that he’s a Lynch and a teenager. Blue completely ignores the daggers Declan’s now aiming at her and skirts the counter to give Matt a hug. He smells like cinnamon and sunshine and she suddenly wants to cry. He reminds her so much of Noah and… that way lies madness. A throat clearing makes her loosen her hold just a little and she pulls back to smile at her favorite Lynch.

“You’re still short!”

His declaration startles a genuine laugh out of her and if her grin is watery he doesn’t comment on it.

“You just saw me not four months ago; I’ve grown at least an inch and three quarters.”

“I don’t see it,” he looks over her head like he can’t find her in a crowd and Blue swats at his chest before stepping back and moving behind the counter.

“It isn’t my fault you keep growing and I can’t catch up,” she says, ignoring the pointed looks that a suspicious Susan and Tammy are shooting her from where’re they’re holding up the counter.

“Matthew, what do want?” Declan offers her no hello or glance, his eyes reading the board she’d written the specials on that morning. _Good_ , she thinks.

“Ah… what’s good, Blue?” The curly headed boy asks, his tone happy and unhurried so unlike his brother’s stern and annoyed voice.

“Banana Nut muffins are tasty today or there may be a brownie left…”

“Brownie, definitely and hot chocolate?”

“Coming right up!” Blue gives him a wink before turning her attention begrudgingly to Declan. “And for you?”

He drags his gaze from the board and pins her with a disdainful stare.

She meets it head on.

“Coffee, two cream and one sugar.”

Humming in response, Blue rings them up and turns to fill the orders but finds Susan already at the machine. Blue grabs a napkin knowing Matthew will finish the treat before he makes it out the door and opens the case, plucking the biggest one out. Handing it over, she watches him take a bite and grins.

“Has Ronan lost his phone again?”

Blue ticks her gaze to Declan with an arched brow. “He never lost his phone.”

“Why doesn’t he answer when I call, then?”

“Maybe he did lose it,” she counters.”

His brows furrow and she watches a flash of anger cross his features. She knows how to read the Lynch brothers now. It’s become a mission of hers and she’s won as much as she’s lost at it.

“He needs to –”

Blue holds a hand up to stop him before he starts. “He doesn’t _need_ to do anything and I am not his secretary. You know where he lives if you’re that desperate to speak to him.”

A muscle in Declan’s jaw ticks and Blue notes that the clatter behind her has gone curiously quiet.

“Just tell him to fucking call me.”

Blue takes a deep breath and glances at Matthew’s wide eyes, offering him a strained smile then turns to grab their drinks. She’s only turned away from them for a second when that weird sensation tightens around her backbone. Ignoring the gazes of the other two girls behind the counter who have all but stopped what they’re doing to watch the spectacle, Blue’s hand stalls when reaching for a lid.

“That’s no way to talk to a fucking lady, you bastard.”

_Fuck,_ she thinks ever so eloquently.

“And I’m right here, no need for a house visit,” Ronan says nastily.

Blue wonders if she should take up praying.

Pivoting back around she pushes the drinks across the counter to Matthew and meets his gaze. Jerking her head towards the table in the corner opposite the frat guys, she waits until he moves to look back at the train wreck about to happen.

“Visiting your _girlfriend_ at work now?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan spits.

Blue studiously avoids the gazes of her coworkers boring holes into her.

“Do you even go to class, Ronan? Or do you just sit in that hovel you call an apartment and let her wait on you?”

The toes of Ronan’s boots touch those of his brother’s and his voice is calm and deadly when he speaks. “Get fucked, Declan.”

_Uh oh,_ whispers in Blue’s head and she winces when the voice sounds like Noah’s. Without thinking she brushes past the staring girls and rounds the counter. She steps on toes uncaringly, shoving her sharp elbows and fists into (not so) soft stomachs until she gets herself wedged between the two furious brothers. Maybe she has a death wish, maybe she’s gotten braver, or maybe she’s just tired of the same ole shit. Probably all of the above.

“I will not be fired because of you two throwing fists!” She punctuates with a jab to Ronan’s ribs and a shove to Declan’s unmoving frame. “You want to box, we’ll rent a ring. Declan, get the hell out of my shop.”

He looks down his nose at her and sneers, but he backs up and keeps his seething brother in his sights. Ronan doesn’t budge. Blue reaches back and hooks a couple fingers into the ever present leather bands that ring his wrist.

“Matthew, come on,” Declan barks without taking his eyes off of Ronan.

Matthew, God love his soul, gets up and sits their drinks on the edge of the counter then shoves Declan aside and barrels into Blue rocking her back into Ronan. He wraps his arms around them both and squeezes. Ronan’s left arm snakes around her to reach his little brother and Blue tugs his other one up along with hers to hug him back. Matthew steps back with a grin and their hands fall back to their sides.

“TV this weekend, yeah?”

“Of course,” Ronan answers immediately.

“Awesome. See you, Blue.”

“Bye, Matthew!”

They watch Declan snatch his coffee from the counter and leave without another word, Matthew following him behind at a more leisurely pace. Blue sighs because; crisis averted and the noise of the customers goes back to normal now that the entertainment has left. Well, half of it. Letting go of his bracelets, Blue spins around to stand toe to toe with Ronan. He’s frowning down at her and she wonders if he knows how much he and Declan are alike. Yeah, okay she doesn’t have a death wish because she is so not saying that to him. Nope, not dying today, thanks.

“Tacos. No arguments,” she orders. The corner of his mouth ticks and she narrows her eyes at him. “I mean it. You almost got me fired and I want tacos from that one place as emotional compensation.”  
“The manager isn’t here tonight, Blue.”

“Shut up, Tammy.”

That muscle in his face does something funny again, almost like it’s trying to make him _smile_.

“Whatever,” he finally responds and to anyone that doesn’t know him they’d think it sounds bored. But Blue knows Ronan and there’s a barely there spark in his eyes that she’d miss if she wasn’t staring straight into them.

“You get out of here, too.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Fuck off, Lynch.”

“Such a lady.”

“Bite me.”

When he grins it’s terrifying and her stomach does a somersault. Susan actually gasps from where she’s eavesdropping. _Yeah_ , she thinks _, I know_. He shoves past her, his grins still firmly in place and Blue can’t contain the laugh when the frat guys with their backward hats and jerseys actually scoot away from the door the closer Ronan’s stride takes him to it. Shaking her head, she sighs and moves back behind the counter.

“Not a word,” she warns Susan and Tammy’s open mouths.

 

_‘There are violets in your eyes._

_There are guns that blaze around you._

_There are roses in between my thighs and fire that surrounds you.’_

_Christmas Eve…_

Ronan sighs for the third time and Blue rolls her eyes. Rolling over, she lifts his arm and burrows under it, wedging her head under his chin and a leg between his. It’s at least five minutes before he does it again. She bites his chest and he curses, loudly.

“I swear if they listen to that Mariah Carey song I will leave.”

“How do you know who sings it? Sounds to me you like it.”

“I will leave your ass here.”

Blue snickers and Elvis croons on about Santa being back in town, the music floating into her room from somewhere in the house. It’s the first time they’ve stepped foot in Henrietta since they left and it was only Maura and Matthew’s pleading that had swayed them. Her room is the same, barely touched save for the exercise bike someone had jammed into the corner. Ronan had refused to sleep anywhere else and it’s a tight fit. Her mother had stared at them for too long while they’d snacked. Blue had only shrugged and trudged up the crooked stairs to fall into bed, exhausted after working a shift then spending the ride there locked in a car with a fidgety Ronan. Traffic always pissed him off.

She falls asleep to the Carol of the Bells and his heartbeat.

 

*

 

Christmas morning dawns with blaring white snow and Maura and Calla flinging her door open and yelling at them to get up. Ronan flips them off and fastens his arm back around her waist. They’ve moved during the night and she’s now the little spoon. Someone whistles and Blue idly wonders through the fog of sleep if he’d worn a shirt to bed. It would explain the sudden quiet if he didn’t. His tattoos are mesmerizing on the best of days.

“Blue… will you come help me with the pies?”

Her heart squeezes at the request and she’s suddenly painfully awake. Ronan, in that intuitive way that makes her wonder if he knows her too well at this point pushes up onto an elbow and looks back over his shoulder at the cluster of relatives in the doorway. Sitting up, Blue doesn’t look at them just yet as his arm slips heavily into her lap and she absentmindedly traces the roots that carefully clutch the compass. The needle points west today.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute,” she says quietly and raises her eyes to meet her mom’s. Maura offers her a smile and shoos everyone away. She leaves the door open. Ronan snorts a laugh and collapses back to the mattress, nuzzling his face against her hip.

“Am I allowed to shower?”

“I would hope so.”

“Coffee?”

“Maybe.”

With a groan, he removes his arm and rolls onto his back, stretching with a jaw breaking yawn. Blue crawls over him and heads to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth before going downstairs. She’s tying her hair up in a messy bun when Ronan knocks his knuckles against the door then pushes in despite her not answering. Rolling her eyes she pats the towel and washrag she laid out. He nods and cocks a brow at her making her scurry from the room before she gets an eyeful. Although it wouldn’t be the first time. Shy is not Ronan’s middle name.

Blue spends the morning cooking, attempting to make a pie worthy of Persephone, and smacking Ronan’s hands to keep him out of the food. The house is alive with aunts and cousins running about, the phone ringing even today in the Phone Room, and the Christmas music pouring from some hidden source. Blue hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed _home_ until she’d returned. Matthew, Declan, and his current girlfriend arrive around four and Blue is honestly surprised they came at all. She figured Matthew would flutter his impossibly long lashes and get to stay without his foreboding shadow.

Oh well, tis the season.

It stays civil due to Calla’s glares and Maura’s food. They open presents after dinner much to Matthew’s confusion, but he seems to like the scarf she made him. She didn’t get Declan anything. Ronan on the other hand simply had an old photo of them when they were children blown up and gave it to them as a joint gift. Matthew hugs him so hard Blue catches Maura swiping at her eyes. They leave before ten to go back to their hotel and get some sleep so they can head back to New York the following morning. Ronan and Blue should be doing the same but they don’t.

The house has quieted and it’s only them remaining in the living room with the twinkling lights on the small and heavily decorated tree.

“Lets go somewhere,” Ronan says so softly she isn’t sure she heard right. Canting her head to the left where he’s slouched in the floor, she raises a brow.

“It’s snowing.”

“So.”

“Let me get my coat.”

And so five minutes later they’re bundled in their coats and boots over their pajamas and the heat in the BMW is on full blast. Snow dusts the windshield every few feet and Ronan drives through it like it’s nothing. She chances a glance at him and he’s relaxed behind the wheel, his usual coiled energy seemingly misplaced for the night. Maybe he missed home too. Blue watches the familiar scenery pass in the glow of the headlights and her heart beats hard. She’d promised Adam that she’d take care of Ronan and it’s the first time in nearly four years that she thinks just maybe she’s finally making good on that promise. That had become her second rule after the hell they’d endured: Take care of Ronan Lynch no matter how stubborn or angry, no matter how hard he pushed her away. It hadn’t been a damn picnic but if Blue was anything, she’s loyal.

“You gonna sit here in the cold?”

Blue blinks, not even realizing that they’d parked. Her eyes focus and through the falling snow she sees the farm house. With wide eyes she looks at Ronan. He doesn’t say anything, just pushes his door open and throws himself out of the car. The Barns. He’d brought them home. Blue swallows against a sudden rush of emotions and climbs out of the car to follow him into the dark house.

“Jesus, it’s cold as a witch’s tit in here,” Ronan states as he kicks off his white-speckled boots. Blue takes his lead and toes out of her own. He leads her into a living room of sorts and messes around with a stove that looks like it’s possibly older than the house itself. A few minutes later a fire flares to life in its belly and Ronan smirks. He points at a chair and Blue takes a seat while he disappears. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath, the smell of the burning wood somehow soothing her senses.

“ _Blue…”_

Her eyes fly open and she leans over the side of the chair at the sound of her name but there isn’t anyone there. She would be scared but she was friends with Noah once and her house is infested with psychics. No, she’s not scared. Ronan comes back five minutes later with his arms loaded down with what looks to be every blanket he could find in the house.

“Help?”

Blue hops up and helps, following his instructions as they lay them down on the floor and he surprises her by dragging the chair over and creating a fort. Once he starts getting creative he can’t stop and soon they’ve borrowed chairs from the kitchen, brooms from the closet and constructed what amounts to the most awesome blanket fort she’s ever seen. With the stove safely tucked in the corner to vent it’s warm, too. Ronan pulls her into it and they shed their coats and settle back against the pillows he’d collected. It’s silent except for the fire and their breathing. Blue’s almost comfortable enough to doze off when he speaks.

“I miss them.”

“Me too,” she replies.

“I… I dream about them.”

Blue turns to her side and gazes at his profile. He rolls his head to meet her eyes and Blue is shocked at what she finds. His blue eyes are bright and honest and she thinks if she ever dived into those depths she’d never find her way out.

“Are they in Cabeswater?”

He shrugs and she watches his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. “I made a promise to Adam too, you know?”

She shakes her head, her heart beating hard like it had in the car.

“And to Gansey… Looks like we’re stuck with each other.”

Blue hums an agreement because she doesn’t think she can talk just yet. She didn’t know Gansey had spoken to him before… _before_. Ronan rolls over and manhandles her into his arms but there’s no need because she goes willingly. She doesn’t understand the how or the why of the thing, all that she knows is that it just _fits_. They’ve shared a bed almost from the beginning, each refusing to admit that they didn’t want to be alone. They’ve shared breaths because without each other their lungs won’t work. They share a heart because a half of each of theirs was torn away from them. And this Frankenstein heart that’s been stitched together may be ugly and angry, but it’s _theirs._

“I love you, too,” Blue whispers and Ronan’s arms tighten around her.

When they fall asleep his arms never loosen.

 

* * *

 

_‘Dreaming away your life…’_

 

The wind rustles through the trees, whispering and Ronan turns his face up to the sun.

“Thanks, man.”

Ronan smiles, it’s easy and true.

“You’re still an asshole you know that right, Lynch?”

His smile stretches into a grin as the sun warms his face.

“He’s right, you should tell her. Jane will be very angry with you when she finds out.”

Ronan shakes his head and laughs.

The trees laugh with him.

He blinks awake slowly. The fire has burnt down but it’s warm enough inside their little blanket cave. Blue sleeps soundly held against his chest. Noah stands at their feet looking down at them. Ronan stares at him. Noah nudges his ankle where it’s escaped their cover and gives him a smudgy smile. Blue sighs in her sleep. Noah holds a finger up to his pursed lips and fades from sight. Ronan hides his smile in Blue’s hair.

 

_fin._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from Lana's 'Honeymoon' of course.  
> So, this is my first TRC fic. Woooo! I left this completely up to your imagination; if they're a couple in the end to you, then they are. If they're just codependent friends left to rely on each other, so be it. It's a pick your own adventure story! (They're very together in this AU in my head. Ha.) Oh! And yeah the boys may or may not be chilling in Cabeswater with Mama Lynch. Anything is possible. ;)  
> Thanks for reading!


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